Category Archives: The River of Stones 2012

Small Stone: Day Eight

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Small Stone: My Journals

End of the year project not finished–book plates with dates waiting to be placed in the front covers, a review to be done. The pile has been there all week, waiting. I realize (finally admit) only the smallest part will be completed, but the rest will have to wait.

I notice that I used the word “wait” three times to write this. It is what these books do–keep a record, hold it for some future moment when I’m ready to return and remember. I can’t decide if that is magic or just sad.

Small Stone: Day Seven

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Small Stone: Sam’s Eyes

Petting you, I stop myself for a moment, sink in to the moment, and really see you. I find you already there, always there, in that space where dogs live–now.  I notice the warm gold of your eyes, the flecks of gold and brown in the fur around them, so strange since from a distance you look like a black dog. That coloring is what made Dr. Mulnix, the first time he saw you at eleven weeks old, say “he definitely has some Shepherd in him.”

I look in your eyes now, and you look back. We are in this moment together, connected, a communication that has no need for words. No future and no past, only now–the place I can always find you.